Ritual Children
by SeraphJewel
Summary: The dollmaker has been blessed with twin daughters. They are very young to be Shrine Maidens, but it must be done for the sake of the village...
1. The Blessed Household

Disclaimer: I do not own Fatal Frame or anything related to it.

**Ritual Children**

_The Blessed Household_

The man was aging, there was no question about it. His fine dark hair faded slowly into grays and whites, wrinkles pressed into his skin, and his skilled hands grew crooked and clumsy with the progression of time. Though his eyes watched children play and his trade brought them joy, he had no little child of his own. He visited the priests less and less often these days. His prayers received no answer, and he resigned that his only contact with children would be from afar.

Then, when his despair seemed total, a miracle occurred. It was discovered his wife was pregnant. He took on new life when he heard the news. His hands worked as if they were the hands of a younger man. What he produced in that time were the most beautiful creations of his career. All of the children wanted one of his dolls now. The money he gathered from his work was enough to build more rooms to his home. The priests came to bless the expected child.

One day, the child growing inside his wife would be a blessing for the entire village.

The day of the child's entrance in the world arrived. He waited, deep in prayer. Anticipated blessings always took a long time in coming, and when they came there was always a price to be paid. His wife paid the price of her very life to bring their blessing into the world. The news broke his heart, and was left to himself while the living blessing was prepared.

Indeed, the child would be a blessing for the entire village. He knew this when the eldest was placed in his arms. Their mother sacrificed her life so they would live, and when the time came he knew the younger of these two girls would be sacrificed so the village could live. That was the greatest price he could pay for receiving these blessings.

The final rites for his departed wife were given. His miracle children were his comfort. For the first few months after their birth he attended the girls alone. He prayed for them, they were his blessing, and so he would tend to their every need. His hands now had a different purpose. No dolls were made during this time. Money slowly dwindled away, day by day threatening to dissolve completely and leave the house with nothing.

He took up his craft again for the sake of his daughters. A different kind of doll began to produce from his hands. He made each one with loving care as if he intended it for one of his daughters. The dolls developed to resemble miniature shrine maidens. The hair was fine and dark, the faces childlike, the clothes white kimonos. Again he saw great success in his work and again money found its way back into his house.

The girls grew old enough to be presented to the priests and receive their names. For any child such a ceremony was important. For the Shrine Maidens, it was even more so. Their names would be known throughout the village and would become symbols of hope as the ritual drew near. Therefore, it was his duty to think of names his daughters could carry proudly. The priests were waiting for him to speak. He knelt down and placed the first infant before them.

"This is my daughter, a miracle given to me in my old age. I have decided to call her Akane. I beg your blessings on her." The priests shook their staffs over the child, granting her strength and bravery to perform the task her birth assigned her. The second child was placed before the priests, next to her sister. "This also is my daughter, a miracle given to the village. I have decided to call her Azami. I beg your blessings on her." The priests complied, blessing this second child with a purity of spirit and easy passage into her sister.

He called the child Azami, after her mother. He acknowledged the sacrifice that would have to be made. The mother died but she lived on in her children. The child Azami would live on in her sister. Even so, he would lose Azami twice.

The last Ritual occurred only three years before his girls were born. So young, to perform such a weighty task. It was his duty as their father to raise them as best he could with the time given. He took on the task alone, but this time it did not consume him. He made beautiful dolls for his little girls.

Beautiful dolls for the beautiful, blessed children.


	2. Growing Bonds

_Growing Bonds_

The doll maker was an excellent craftsman. His creations were beautiful, almost like miniature little girls. All the village children loved his dolls, and he enjoyed making them. Truthfully, though, he saved his best pieces for his two precious daughters. They had such a short time to spend together that he wanted them to have the best he could give them.

The girls were beautiful even while they were still infants. As they grew their father noted with delight that they strongly resembled their mother. Both had the same beautiful dark hair and the same eyes. The only part of himself he saw in his girls was in their hands: the shape and strength of their hands was inherited from him. Those hands were not meant to kill, but he knew that was the fate set down for them.

Akane was his precious child, his darling. She was very quiet but when she spoke her voice sounded like sweet music. She liked to be by his side when he worked on his dolls. It was the only time she could part herself from her twin. He would work on the floor so she could watch how his fingers moved. Her eyes were carefully attentive to the process, and when he was finished she would reach for the doll with a smile on her face. When she got older he hoped she would follow his business.

Azami was a precious child as well, but not in the same way as her sister. She loved to chatter and play games. She was the first of the twins to learn words. Many times she spoke her sister's thoughts when the other chose to remain silent. She was the bold one, the adventurer, making friends with the other village children and encouraging her sister to do the same. Though it brought their father to tears thinking of what was to happen to his lively Azami, he took comfort knowing how strong she would be when the time came.

The progression of years was both a blessing and a curse to him. He loved watching his girls grow and develop into two beautiful individuals. At the same time, he dreaded the passing years as it meant they were drawing ever closer to the Ritual. He stalled talking to his daughters about their purpose. They had such a very short time to spend together that he wanted it to be happy for as long as possible. He still had a few years left before that unpleasantness…

When the twins turned four years old, their father presented them with beautiful notebooks. He explained they were diaries. He would teach them to write and then they could put their private thoughts into the diaries. Of course the girls each got a doll as well, but they seemed to like the diaries much better. They were eager to learn writing and even Akane spoke up asking to be taught.

"The first thing I want to learn is how to write Azami's name," Akane told her father.

"I want to learn Akane's name first," chirped her twin. "Then I'm going to learn all of the other words! Akane, you and I will be able to write things to each other, and we can use these diaries to write secret messages." She ran her fingers over the violet diary, eyes alive in excitement. "I'll only let you read what's in my diary, Akane. I won't even let Papa see!"

"That is why I bought you the diaries," their father said, smiling at his two girls. "You are free to use them however you wish. I promise I will start teaching you to write tomorrow. I have some work I need to finish. You girls go along and play."

The girls hurried off to the back of the house. Their father had a playroom for them there that he later intended to be the twins' permanent room. He felt they were too young to be so far away from him. Besides, Akane loved coming in to watch him work, so it was easy to have the twins close by. The twins loved being close to their father, but they also loved the privacy of their playroom. They spent the first few minutes inside deciding where they would hide their new diaries.

"We have to put them in special places," Azami explained, "and only you and I will know where they are." She found a good spot and let her sister watch as she tucked the violet book away. Akane looked around for a place but had much more trouble choosing a good spot. At last she found a spot, her sister close at hand to make note of where she placed the diary.

"Now what?" She glanced to Azami for guidance. She always had to rely on her sister for all of the good ideas, and if Azami was not close by she relied on her father. In answer to her question, Azami held up the new dolls their father gave them.

The girls already had many dolls their father gave them. Some were specifically made for them and others were those that hadn't been sold. The twins loved the dolls no matter what. Akane loved the ones made especially for her. She thought they were the prettiest dolls, the ones her father spent the most time and care in making. Azami made up stories about their dolls, and always the special ones made just for them were made the most important characters.

"Akane, these pretty dolls Papa made for us are twins, just like us!" Azami set their two new dolls together, and sure enough they were exactly alike. Akane smiled in response and picked up her doll to cradle it lovingly in her arms. "These doll sisters are going to be together forever just like we are."

"Forever?" Akane echoed softly.

"Yes, of course! You know how I know?" Akane shook her head, and her sister continued. "It's because we'll keep them together. You and I can stay together too, Akane, as long as we make sure we keep together."

"Never leave each other?" Akane wondered, her eyes widening.

"It's okay to be away for a little while," her sister explained, "if we're out playing or with Papa, because we'll always come back together again. That's what we have to promise, Akane! Promise that we'll always come back together, no matter what!"

"Okay," Akane agreed quietly. She reached out and grasped her sister's hand as tightly as she could. "I promise."


	3. Separation Anxiety

_Separation Anxiety_

Death should never be introduced to small children. Such a concept was hard enough for adults to grasp; for children, one could only imagine how much harder it would be. Even so, time was growing increasingly short and he could not hesitate for much longer in bringing up the subject. In only two short years his beautiful girls would have to experience the grisly truth of death first-hand. He longed to protect them from it but there was no way he could do so without condemning the entire village.

The Ritual would commence two years from now, whether he liked it or not. It seemed like such a very long time away when they were newborns in his arms. In their early years he was so consumed keeping up with them that he could hardly spare a moment to think of how much more time he had left. Two years seemed such a beautifully long stretch of time thinking back. The girls were three years old then and exercising their knowledge of words and mobility. Now they were five years old, and two years could have been two days without their father knowing the difference.

Every moment was precious now. He gathered both of his daughters to his side whenever he worked on a new doll. He knew it was a selfish thing to ask so much time of them in their two remaining years, but he concluded it was better to be selfish than to look back and regret. Of course he allowed them as much time together as they wished. They would have to know very soon what would happen to them, but not yet… not yet. His beloved girls were still so innocent. He wished to grant them a few more moments of blissful childhood before thrusting into cruel reality.

Time slipped away from the small family like grains of sand. However hard the father fought to grasp it, it would fall from his fingers and disappear. He could no longer hesitate, could no longer shelter his blessings. Even so, he planned to share the truth in a gentle way. He took the necessary books and determined to tell the girls himself of what they were born to do. He felt that if his daughters heard the news from him rather than a stranger, they would handle it better.

"Akane! Azami! Come with me, my little treasures. There is something important we need to talk about." He could hear the strain in his voice but it must not have been extreme enough to alarm his girls. They obediently put away their dolls and followed their father into the deluxe tatami room. It was large enough for the three to sit comfortably.

"What is it, Papa?" Azami asked him once all three were seated inside. He hesitated in speaking, his eyes lingering over the faces of his two girls. They were identical down to the kimonos they wore and yet he could easily distinguish one from the other. He wondered if he would be able to see Azami's lively eyes shining when he looked at Akane years later…

"Children, today we are going to have a history lesson," he began. His speech had slowed and the quiver was drastic enough for his daughters to look concerned. "Today… I will tell you about your place in All God's Village."

"Papa…" It was Akane who spoke this time, her soft sweet voice bringing a smile to his face. She was smiling as well and that gave him comfort. "Whatever is making you sad, don't worry. Azami and I are with you."

"Yes," he said in a whisper, covering his eyes with a hand to try subduing the tears. "You are indeed, my little one." It took him a few moments to gather himself. His daughters patiently waited in silence until he was ready to speak. "Now children, you already know how the gods have agreed to look after this village. We are truly blessed, and with each blessing comes a sacrifice."

"Yes, Papa," the girls chimed in unison. He smiled and patted each head in turn.

"There is a place," he went on, "that cannot be spoken about. It is a place we fear and worship, and if this place grows angry it will destroy the entire village. Our guardian deities protect us from the wrath of the unspoken place. Do you know who our guardian deities are?" He allowed a pause as the girls puzzled out this question.

"Maidens," Azami replied at last.

"Correct, and more specifically _twin_ maidens." He paused again and watched as comprehension dawned on their young faces. "Yes, my little ones. That is why you have been so well respected in your young lives. Twins are important for the survival of our village. Very soon Ceremony Master Kurosawa will come to our home. He will take you girls across the Earth Bridge to the Tachibana home."

"He's taking us away?" Akane asked, her eyes going wide in fear. "Why? Did we do something wrong, Papa?"

"No, my darling," he assured her. "It is nothing you have done, but rather he is to prepare you so that you may do something for this village. What that is to be I am forbidden to say. All I can tell you is that we must be separated for a long time."

"That's why you're sad," Azami concluded. She scooted forward so her little hands could wrap around his body in a hug. Her twin silently moved to copy her. "Don't worry, Papa. We will come back to you. Once we do whatever Kurosawa-sensei tells us, we will come back."

"We will," her twin confirmed. "We promise, Papa." Their father could think of nothing to say. He put an arm around each of his blessed girls and held them close. Before he thought he was fortunate to have such children in his life. This moment confirmed that for him without a doubt.

"My lovely girls… I will miss you both very much while you are away." He pressed a kiss in each girl's hair. "Be strong, Akane… and be brave, Azami. Never forget that your father loves you both very much."

"We would never forget that, Papa," they answered. "We love you too, Papa." They shifted and kissed their father's cheeks. Before he knew it they were out of his arms and running back to their special room. He touched his cheek where Azami's lips had grazed. This would probably be the last time he received a kiss from his lively girl. As for Akane… how much would she change, once she joined with Azami?

Already he dreaded the thought of separating from his girls. His only comfort was in knowing they wouldn't be alone as they were cleansed for the Ritual. Oh, how he wished he could be there with them to help them through it all… but alas, it was forbidden. All he could do for them was pray, and hope.


	4. Twice Sacrificed

_Twice Sacrificed_

When the time came for the girls to leave, their father took them one at a time into his arms and hugged tightly. His silent tears stuck in their long black hair. The girls each gave him a kiss on his cheeks and gave him innocent words of strength. They understood that he wept because he hated being separated from them. This would be the first time they would leave their father for a long period of time. They could gather strength from one another, but their father had no one to draw strength from.

"We'll be back soon, Papa," Azami assured her father. The old man could not respond past the lump in his throat, but he did try to smile for his precious girls. He managed to croak out an "I love you" before the girls were taken out of his life.

What the girls learned while they were ceremoniously cleansed was difficult for even the oldest townsperson to wrap their mind around. The Ceremony Master Kurosawa debated on the best way to explain all that was expected of these Shrine Maidens. The girls already seemed so hopeless cut off from their home and father, and they were so very young. Yet it was left up to him to tell these girls of their ultimate task.

"You two are very special children," he began. "Do you know that the guardians of this village are twin Shrine Maidens?" The girls nodded silently, feeling shy in front of this grown-up without their father by their side. "That is why you girls are respected so highly."

"Papa told us that," Azami responded quietly.

"I'm sure he did. I brought you girls here to the Tachibana house in preparation for something. Our village needs its guardians. As the new Shrine Maidens, you girls need to help the village."

"Us?" The girls exchanged surprised glances. "What can we do to help the village?" Azami wondered.

"You must stay here in this house for a while. While you are here you must bathe twice a day and pray nightly for your souls to be cleansed. In this way you can become pure Shrine Maidens. After a while I will come back and take you to the place where you will help the village." It was a great struggle, explaining what was to be done without speaking of the ritual. Kurosawa knew his words were insufficient but it was the best he could do for them.

The girls did all they were told while in the Tachibana house. Never in their lives did they have to follow such rigorous rules. They were even given specific directions in how to wash themselves when they bathed. It was difficult for them but they knew what they were doing would ultimately help the village.

The girls did not speak with one other like before. Both kept silent in their own thoughts. Akane was usually quiet so such actions were not strange for her. In her sister's case, however, being so quiet was very strange. Akane understood why her sister chose not to speak: they were both very frightened, and Azami would not speak because she knew she would express that fear in her voice. Her silence was for them both, to keep some semblance of courage in their hearts. Somehow Akane drew courage knowing that she and her sister were equally frightened of the future.

Days all felt the same to them while they waited. They arose early to have their morning bath and then they would wait. Kurosawa never told them when he would come back for them so they were always ready with new clothes just in case. They also waited for any contact with their father. They understood that he could not see them, but perhaps a message from him would come. Hopes such as these kept them going.

Perhaps they were in the Tachibana house for only a few days; perhaps they resided there a full month. It didn't matter when at last Kurosawa came for them. They were ready as they were every day, wearing clean white kimonos. Through Heaven ad Earth they traveled. The girls were young but they knew the path they were treading would lead them to That Place. The priests flanking them were veiled and blinded Mourners trailed behind the procession.

There was a place in the village that could not be spoken about. It was forbidden ground, and it was said that anyone who looked on That Place would be struck blind. The girls remembered now the stories of twin girls entering That Place, and only one returning. No one ever explained why only one girl would return. It was because that place was forbidden ad sacred. Priests and Mourners entered there with the Shrine Maidens, and… did what, exactly? Akane must have sensed it, for her little hand grasped onto her sister's.

"I'm not afraid anymore," Azami whispered, squeezing her sister's hand. "Kurosawa-sensei told us that this will help the village. If us going to That Place will help, I will freely go. You have to be strong too or else we are no good as Shrine Maidens." Akane responded by nodding her head and holding her sister's hand tighter.

The Forbidden Ritual was taking place again after ten years. The girls stood side by side for the last time on the very ground of That Place. The priests blessed Azami and Akane, murmuring a prayer to the gods. Azami acted like one much older as she lay down on the cold stone. Kurosawa was there to make sure the ritual went on smoothly.

"Ten years have passed, O mighty gods," he began in a booming voice. "The Shrine Maidens have returned to offer the sacrifice. Please accept this sacrifice and spare our village for ten more years. Now," he went on in a kinder tone, "the two Shrine Maidens will become one. Akane, kneel down and close your hands around her throat."

Akane did not move at first. She and her sister stared at each other in silence. There was no fear in Azami's dark eyes. They both knew that through this they could truly be together forever as they promised. Akane drew strength from her sister's bravery and placed her small hands around the neck. Around them the priests pounded the hard ground with their staffs. Akane wished there weren't so many people surrounding them. This felt like something private between her and her sister; it was wrong to have so many strange eyes on them.

A third hand joined her two, a hand much stronger than her own. "No!" Two voices cried out as one. "We will do this alone!" They were born to do this and so it would be done. Akane was not very strong but she could be strong for her sister. They both wanted it that way.

The clatter of the staffs fell silent. Akane could no longer feel the pulse of life against her hands. Slowly she moved her hands away. The body that once belonged to Azami was now an empty vessel. Akane lifted her eyes and thought she could see a crimson butterfly fluttering away. Shakily she dropped her eyes down to look at the hands that killed her sister.

"Never again," she whispered. "I promise… I will never kill again."


	5. Plaything

_Plaything_

Two girls departed the Kiryu house hand in hand. He dreamt of them every night, his mind painting a picture of their last moments together. Of course it was forbidden for him to actually witness the ritual but he knew enough to imagine what it would be like. It made him ill to even think of his innocent treasures forced through the horrific sacrifice. He couldn't bear it and nightly wept for the loss. He knew from the day they were born that it would come to this, but for him it had come far too soon.

Two girls left him, and only one would return. He wondered what the reunion would be like. Would he be able to see his spirited Azami in Akane's eyes? How would the ritual affect his remaining child? Emotionally and psychologically she could never be the same. Taking the life of her sister could not have been easy in any sense. Just thinking of her anguish made him feel helpless. It would be so difficult for him to be strong for her but it was all he could think to do.

Kurosawa visited the doll maker one day to return Akane. Father and daughter stood regarding one another. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders and knelt down before her, searching her face. He knew at once that something had changed about her, but the change did not seem to be for the better. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and staring. The doll maker looked closely but could not see Azami's spirit through those eyes.

"Akane, my sweet little treasure… Welcome back home," he greeted her, kissing her pale cheeks. She only stared at him in response. Gently he guided the girl through the house so they could sit down together.

"Papa… why do we kill?" she asked him suddenly. The question took him off-guard, but he wasn't entirely surprised she asked.

"There are many reasons," he responded. "The simple answer is that in order to live, we must take life away. To eat we must take life away from the animals and plants. In order to survive we must protect ourselves from those that wish us harm, and in some cases it means that harmful person must die." He paused for that all to sink in before continuing. "I'm certain Kurosawa-sensei explained to you about the Shrine Maidens."

"Yes, he told us," Akane nodded. "But _why_, Papa? I don't understand. Why did Azami have to die?" Her father remained silent, at a loss for an answer. This innocent child posed the question that haunted his mind daily. He could think of nothing to say, for the question was still unanswered in his own mind.

"Azami is with you now," he said at last, reaching over to stroke his daughter's hair. "And she will be protecting this village. She hasn't left us." Akane was silent, allowing her father to stroke her hair soothingly for a moment.

"I don't want to kill anymore," she told him.

"That's all right, you won't have to," he assured her. "Never again, I promise."

As sad as he felt over Azami's loss, he found he couldn't spare his lost daughter a moment of mourning when he saw the misery of his remaining child. He did all he could think of to make her smile again. He bought her kimonos in every available color, gave her more dolls than she would ever have time to play with, and encouraged her to come into his work room whenever she wanted. Nothing worked. Her new kimonos hung in her closet unworn, the dolls were not touched, and her presence was noticeably lacking when he went to work.

Though the ritual was claimed to be a success by Kurosawa and the priests, but the doll maker could not see his daughter's behavior as a success. She did not speak with him after her return home and she spent a great deal of time wandering aimlessly through the house. At night he could hear faint sobs from her room. It made his heart ache watching her. How could this suffering be considered a success?

He wanted Akane back, wanted to hear her sweet voice and have her sit by his side while he made the dolls. She used to love watching him create dolls and later give them life through her gentle hands. He felt that Akane would be better if only she could see her sister again, but such a thing seemed impossible. Unless… he gave her something that _resembled_ Azami. It was a wild thought but he had no other options, and he was desperate.

The doll maker shut himself away in his work shop. He never felt so consumed by a project as he was now. Every detail had to be perfect, right down to the shape of the feet and the color of the eyes. He took special care when making the head and facial features. It was difficult finding the correct length and color of thread for the hair but it would all be worth it if this helped Akane. He finished late in the evening and brought the doll out to await the morning.

"Akane, I have a surprise for you," he told his daughter. "Come look." He took her by the hand and led her to the doll. It was a perfect likeness of the departed Azami so much that it could have fooled even its maker if he didn't know better. Akane slipped away from her father and tentatively approached the doll.

"Azami…" She reached out, touching the doll's cheek. She stared into the doll's glass eyes for a long time before turning back to her father. Already he could see life returning to her. "Papa, you brought her back."

"Yes, I did," he confirmed, smiling down at her. He hadn't realized how much he missed her voice. Her lips curled into a soft smile and she went into his arms. He felt like he wanted to cry for joy as he held his little girl, careful not to squeeze her too tightly.

"She's here to stay this time, isn't she?" Akane asked him. "She won't… leave again?"

"No," he assured her, stroking through her dark hair. "She won't leave you again." This time a full smile lit her face, and Akane eagerly turned back to the doll.

"Papa, may I be alone with her?"

"Of course you may." He kissed her forehead and left the room. He felt such joy in seeing his daughter back to her old self again. He secretly moved back to watch his daughter enjoy the new toy. Akane sat with the doll by her side, holding its hand and leaning close to whisper in its ear.

He smiled a little to himself. She was already treating the doll as a friend, like she used to before Azami's death. It was good to have things back to how they should be.


	6. Spirit Whispers

_Spirit Whispers_

When the solitary girl returned home, she did not expect to find anything waiting for her there. The world felt cold and empty now that her sister was gone. She felt heavy in both body and spirit. The only reason she could move on was because her father would be waiting for her. She promised she would go back to him. It was painful to think that both she and Azami had made that promise; now only Akane remained. She worried that her father would not understand her sister's absence.

She was not expecting her father to welcome her with such joy. He didn't scold her for what she did. He didn't shrink away from her or act disgusted. Akane felt like she wanted to cry, though she wasn't sure if they were tears of sorrow or joy. She couldn't be sure of any emotions. They all seemed mixed together inside her, so tightly lodged that she couldn't bear to speak. Her father didn't press her and for that she loved him all the more. He was all she had left in the world.

She knew how hard her father tried to help her, but no material object could replace Azami. During the daylight hours when she knew her father was watching she controlled her sorrow, but at night it was released in floods of tears. Crying didn't lessen the pain but it allowed her to express it in the only way she could. Her father worried about her but she couldn't live as she once did. Her hands still felt Azami's warm living throat, her eyes remembered her sister's face, her ears rang with her sister's voice as it spoke its last words… She couldn't forget these things.

Akane thought that the rest of her life would move on in this depressed fashion. She didn't look for a ray of hope, didn't think the world would ever be anything but darkness after what she did to Azami. But her father had a special gift for her that broke through her darkened world. She didn't want to believe it was true at first. But there, standing in their house, was her twin sister.

There were so many things Akane wanted to tell her sister. She sat holding the other girl's hand and basking in her presence for a few moments. She expected Azami to speak but her twin was silent. She understood why her sister was reluctant to speak after what had recently passed between them. In truth she too had no words at first. She was overwhelmed by her emotions and nothing she could express in words would be enough. The girl sobbed, draping her arms around her sister's shoulders and hugging her. It didn't matter to her that Azami wouldn't hug her back. She drew back after a while and resumed holding her sister's hand.

"It's all right, Azami," she said quietly. She leaned closer so she could whisper in her sister's ear. "You're staying here for good. I'm never letting anything bad happen to you again, I promise." The other girl remained silent but it didn't matter. They were together again and nothing would tear them apart.

The darkness lifted from her eyes and she enjoyed the world again. Akane decided that from now on she would not go anywhere without her sister. They were always very close but before they could be without one another's company. Separation would not happen any longer. Azami had been weakened by her journey back to life, and she needed Akane to do everything for her. She couldn't even sit or stand without her sister guiding her body. Akane really didn't mind, and in fact saw it as part of her punishment being her sister's caretaker.

"No one else can do this but me," she explained when her father offered his help. "It's my fault she's like this, so I must be the one to care for her." Her father didn't try to argue with her. He stepped back and allowed her to do as she pleased.

Akane spoke to her sister all the time. She took the burden of being the chatty, lively twin. It was not really comfortable for her but for her sister, she would do it. During the day she took Azami around the house and pointed out where they played together. She didn't go outside anymore except for a few hours at night. Se didn't want to expose her sister to others just yet. It would overwhelm her and do more harm than good. Akane would rather die than do anything that damaged her sister in any way.

"It's all right if you never want to play with the other children," she told her sister one evening as they sat together under the stars. "I like it being just the two of us. That's how I always want it to be. We'll be together forever, and this time I won't let anything or anyone take you away from me."

In the days that followed Azami's return home, Akane experienced happiness unlike anything she felt before. But strangely her sister's presence didn't give the girl back her old energy. Devoting all of her time and energy to her sister left her feeling physically tired. She expected as much after giving so much care and attention to her twin. At times just speaking to her would wear on Akane, perhaps because she poured so much of her feelings into her words. Azami never spoke a word and still did not move without her sister's guidance. Yet Akane felt happier than she had been in a long time.

"Akane… have you been sleeping well?" her father asked. It was morning, almost a week after Azami's return. He had been secretly watching his daughter from afar and he was growing very concerned about her. At first he was delighted that his gift brought joy back into his daughter's eyes, but as the days went on he observed her growing weaker rather than stronger.

Now as he looked over the table at his precious child, he felt his eyes brim with tears. This was not the beautiful girl he said goodbye to before the ritual, nor was it the sullen figure that came back to him once it was over. Akane's eyes looked darker than normal and her skin was a sickly pale. She slept often but still there were heavy dark circles under her eyes. When she moved she walked as if something heavy constantly pressed down on her, and she often had to pause for breath.

"I'm all right," Akane replied in a chilling lifeless tone. "Azami is with me." She turned to whisper into the doll's ear. His eyes opened and at last he had to face the truth: his daughter believed that the doll was really Azami returned to her.

"Akane, you know the rules," he said, his voice struggling to be steady. "No dolls at the table." She gave him a blank stare that sent shivers up his spine. Looking into those eyes, he could think that his daughter had somehow lost a part of her soul.

"There are no dolls here, Papa," she replied. Her voice carried the sharp edge of anger. It wasn't like her to speak in such a way. Akane rose from the table and took the doll with her. Her father couldn't help noticing that she hardly touched her food.

Akane returned to her room with her sister by her side. She couldn't understand what was wrong with her father. The two of them used to be so close; she felt he understood her. Had she changed so much because of the ritual? She was just starting to gain back her sister and now her father was being drawn away from her. Why did he say such a thing? He was usually so kind and loving to his daughters. What made him change, for him to call Azami a doll?

"I know it isn't your fault you can't walk," she assured her sister. "I thought Papa would understand that. I know he didn't mean it, Azami! He loves us both very much. I don't understand why he would say such a cruel thing." She put her arms around her twin and started to cry. "Oh, Azami, I'm so sorry about everything!"

The doll's fingers twitched ever so slightly, catching the girl's tears as they fell.


	7. Azami Returns

_Azami Returns_

The hour was growing late but he couldn't seem to encourage sleep into his body. There were too many things weighing on his mind. His daughter was growing very ill and he feared she was also losing her mind. She honestly believed that he doll he created was her sister returned to her. She had given his dolls a kind of life in the past through her imagination, but this felt too real to be just an act. It concerned him and for the second time after the Ritual he felt hopeless.

He could hear the floorboards creaking outside his room. So Akane couldn't sleep, either? He rose and quietly exited his room. Sure enough he saw a small figure wandering down the hall. But its gait was not like his daughter's at all. It moved in slow jerking motions, its head rolling from side to side. He could feel his heart racing frantically inside him as he watched.

"Akane?" he called out. The figure made no sign that it heard him. Trembling, he stepped back into his room and slid the door closed behind him. Something horrible was happening. That was the doll he crafted for Akane, he was sure of it. But how could an inanimate object move on its own? He forced himself to calm down and think rationally.

Akane spent all of her time with the doll. She was constantly whispering things in its ear, and she treated the doll as if it were her dead sister. Could it be that she had put so much energy into this fantasy that it somehow gave the doll a life of its own? He didn't know what to think of this. All he knew was he had a deep sense of fear in his heart. He heard that if a spirit took possession of a doll, it could steal the soul of another. He trembled at the thought.

The next morning he could see that the spirit was already doing its work. The doll and Akane had exchanged roles: the doll was the one guiding Akane, and the girl was now lifeless. He fought for composure sitting in the same room as the two. He couldn't see the doll's eyes from behind its long hair, but he could feel that it was staring at him. As if were mocking him with its triumph.

"Did you sleep well, Akane?" he asked his daughter. The girl didn't answer, or even lift her head. The only assurance he had that she was even still alive was the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. "Akane," he tried again. "Let's go for a walk today."

"Why…?" she croaked out at last. "Why kill?" Swallowing down his fear, her father rested his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"No one's going to kill," he assured her. But that was a lie: he knew that the only way to free his daughter was to get rid of the doll. He had to throw the doll into the X, and only then would his daughter be free of its control. _I am so sorry, Azami_.

He had everything planned out. He would have to take the doll when it was at its weakest. Since it was feeding off his daughter, he assumed it wouldn't be quite as strong while she slept. He would tie up the doll and hang it. Somehow he sensed that this part was very important. The original Azami had died by suffocation; it was only fitting that her doll form would perish in a similar way. Once he hung the doll he would throw it into the X. There was a passageway to the X in his house.

He left the house to purchase the length of rope needed for the hanging. He didn't like leaving Akane alone with that evil spirit but he felt confident that soon he would rid them both of its presence. He returned home after a while, hiding the rope in his room, and went to check on the passageway. He wanted to be sure it still worked after so many years of disuse.

What he saw when he entered the room was a complete shock. There were statues of twin girls that acted as the key to the passageway. However, one of the statues was missing its head and arms. He didn't need to wonder who was responsible for it. He just needed to find the missing pieces quickly. But he was in for another surprise when, as he turned to leave the room, he saw Akane and the doll standing side by side in the doorway.

"Akane…" The girl stepped forward, her little hands stretching up trying to reach him. The doll was following close behind her with its arms in the same gesture. Frightened, he pushed the doll out of his way and ran to another part of the house.

He found himself in his daughter's room. He pressed his body tight against the wall and calmed his breathing so he could hear if footsteps were approaching. The hallways were silent, for now. He was grateful for this moment of peace to gather his thoughts together. This doll was using his daughter against him, in more ways than one. It looked just like his departed child and it was controlling Akane. There was no doubt in his mind that the evil spirit intended to kill him.

Soft, steady creaking noises alerted him to the approach of the doll and his daughter. He quickly left the room before he could be cornered. The doll must have somehow figured out his plan and instructed Akane to dismantle the mechanism. Now he had no way of opening the passage to the X. Unless he somehow found where Akane hid the missing parts. But how could he do that? His house was fairly large, and the doll had no need for sleep so it could keep pursuing him until he died.

He walked down the hallway praying for help. His feet guided him to one of the storerooms. Without hesitation he slid the door open. His hands clamped around his mouth just in time to catch the startled yelp that escaped. Standing in the small space was none other than Azami. He could tell it was her in spite of his fear.

"Kill the doll, Papa!" she cried, though the voice seemed to come only in his mind. "I know where Akane hid the parts! Look!" The figure of his dead daughter pointed inside one of the boxes. Slowly he shifted the boxes until he found one of the statue's missing limbs.

So the last two missing pieces would have to be hidden somewhere in this house. Most likely Akane would choose small spaces just like this storeroom to hide the parts. He could think of two other places in the house… and each of the places would be hiding one more part.

First he investigated the room on the second floor. He could hear the steady clump of shoes on the floor below. Then-- his heart picked up its pace in reaction-- the sound of stairs groaning under the weight of someone ascending. He peeked inside the room and was relieved to see Azami standing there as before. She silently pointed him to where the next limb was hidden. He took the limb and hurried to another set of stairs that would carry him back down to the first floor. He had only one piece left to go. Then he could finally be rid of that cursed doll.

The final piece was found. Heart pounding hard against his chest, he quickly moved back to fit the three pieces back into place. Carefully he turned the two figures so they were facing each other. He waited… but the path didn't open. A chill of fear swept through his body. What could have gone wrong? He had the limbs, he had faced the statues in the correct direction… He turned both statues back, hoping his crafter's eye would catch the problem.

Wait… eye. That's what was missing! He hurried through the house searching for the glass eyes. He found himself near the front of the house, where he now kept most of the dolls he had yet to sell. A creaking noise alerted him to another presence. He turned and saw Akane standing in the doorway, blocking the entrance to the hall. He turned to the other door, but the doll was blocking that exit.

"Papa," croaked Akane's voice. He couldn't tell if it was his daughter speaking or the doll. "You promised… not to kill."


	8. The Price

_The Price_

Perhaps the spirit had always dwelt within their walls, resting in a dormant state. Perhaps it grew into being feeding off the emotions of the small family as their lives drew them toward the unthinkable. It was even harder to tell when the evil spirit chose its vessel. It could even be supposed that it planted the idea of a doll substitute into the father's mind. The father's heart was aching in sorrow and had begged daily for a way to help his daughter. He was a desperate man; he had already lost so much and he vowed to do anything if he could only save this one last treasure in his life.

Creating a doll that copied his dead daughter required a great deal of concentration. He had to call on the memories of his daughter to shape the doll's appearance. His loving attention to detail suggested more than just a craftsman's touch. It was the love of a father being poured out onto this doll. Such an emotion was very powerful but more was needed for the spirit to dwell within the creation.

It wasn't the father alone who offered this dwelling place for the spirit, nor was it only the young girl desperate for her sister to return. The two fed into the doll together. They had willed it to life with their combined feelings for the departed girl it was meant to replace. The father gave his heart to the doll; the daughter gave it her soul.

The doll granted the wishes of the two who had given it so much: it lived. It drew energy from the child and as a sign of thanks for all Akane poured into it, the spirit in turn poured some of itself back into her. The girl who had been trying to turn a doll into a person was now being transformed from a person into a doll.

Something had changed in the father's behavior. In the beginning he had found Akane's attachment to the doll encouraging, but now he looked on the relationship with unease and worry. He could sense that something was wrong and the spirit that had worked so hard to live now sensed that it faced destruction.

"_Akane_." The voice that croaked out was an illusion, a memory of what Azami's voice had once sounded like to further manipulate the lonely girl. "_He is acting strangely._"

"Papa… won't kill," the girl responded in a flat tone.

"_Are you so sure? I sense that he's afraid, Akane. He's afraid of the bond you and I share. He may try to separate us._"

"He won't," Akane insisted, some of her old strength returning. "Papa loves us. He promised… he promised there would be no more killing." The bond between father and daughter was strong but stronger still was the bond linking the spirit with the girl. She had given far too much of herself to resist its influence now.

"_What if he broke his promise?_" The doll trembled violently in expression of the spirit's fury. "_What will you do? Will you let him send me back there?_"

"No." The girl was trembling as well, but for a different reason. "I don't want you to go."

"_Then make sure I can never be sent back._" Tears streamed down the girl's cheeks but she didn't protest, not that she would have been able to.

The plan was set in motion. The perfect opening came when the father left them alone together in the house. With the mechanism destroyed there would be no way for the spirit to be taken back to darkness. Its presence was so close to consuming Akane completely. It would not be taken back now.

The only force it could not control was the father. He thought he could hide his true intentions but his own notes had betrayed him. Akane had discovered them. She did not shed tears. There wasn't enough human left in her being for her to express sadness. She knew without being told that there was only one solution.

Floorboards creaked loudly, pounding out the rhythm of his racing heart. Much slower creaks followed after him. The house seemed so large but they would make it close in around him. Their careful footsteps pursued him wherever he turned. Fear already thrilled his heart but if the ominous creak of the floorboards didn't consume his thoughts, he would have heard something else even more chilling: a child's voice repeating the same words, her voice begging him for an answer.

"Why… kill? Why… kill?"

He made it to the front of the house where the last piece waited for him. His focus was on retrieving the eyes and he gave no time to other thoughts. It was only when he saw himself trapped that he noticed the transformation of the room. The dolls he had spent so much love and care in making were now dangling from the ceiling, strung up by their necks. They swayed lifelessly as his movements disturbed them.

"Papa… You promised… not to kill." He took in a shuddering breath, glancing from the doll to his daughter and back again.

"Akane." He called out to his daughter, his voice trembling. Her small steps propelled her forward, her arms outstretched to reach him. She was muttering the same words again. "Akane," he tried again. "I know you're still in there. Please, you must fight this!" She continued moving forward one step at a time.

"_You want to kill me,_" hissed out a new voice, strange and unnatural. "_She knows you want to kill me. She won't let you send me back._" Akane's voice continued on as if it were a broken record. The doll now started moving as well, closing in on the father from both sides. He did not try to run away this time. This time he attempted to use words to call back his daughter from the spirit's control.

"Akane, listen to me. That thing is not Azami! It's consuming you, and I can't let it take you away! Please, Akane, you must listen to me!" She didn't even pause but kept moving forward, kept mumbling the same words over and over. He seemed to realize at last what was happening, and trembled even worse. "No… no, please! She's my little girl! Please, don't do this!"

The doll stood right behind him. Its little hands shot out and grabbed him, squeezing into his flesh. He was bigger in size but the doll's strength had grown by feeding off of Akane. It squeezed tighter forcing him on his knees. His daughter drew closer still, mumbling those same words. He lifted his head to look the girl in the eye. Her eyes had lost all signs of life. She looked like a doll.

"Akane… my beautiful child. I'm so sorry. I should never have replaced Azami with that accursed doll. Can you ever forgive me?" Her small hands closed silently around his neck. Their eyes met but it didn't seem like she recognized him.

"Why… kill?" she muttered. The hands started to press against his neck. "Why… kill?"

"I understand now," he said in a whisper. "This is my punishment. I have committed a terrible sin, and now I must pay." Akane's persistent voice rode over his words as her small hands pressed tighter. "Azami… Akane. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you were born to this. I love you, my precious little treasures." He said no more and waited as his daughter's hands closed tighter and tighter against him.

In the Ritual, the girl's hands had not been strong enough to take away her sister's life. The priests sensed this and moved to step in, but Azami refused to let anyone but her sister do this. Akane's hands were now pressed firmly over veins in her father's neck in an effort to cut off circulation. She was not strong enough to do it alone. The doll's hands joined hers. Her father kept his eyes on her until he could no longer remain conscious. His body slumped down onto the wooden floor.

"… Papa?" Akane closed and opened her eyes slowly. "Papa?" She turned her eyes on her father, who remained motionless at her feet. She brought her small trembling hands up to her eyes and stared at them, breathing heavily.

A piercing scream rang out through the house.

It was days later when the ceremony master entered the Kiryu house in search of the doll maker. The man had not been seen in days. His house was quiet except for the faint sound of boards creaking on the second floor. Kurosawa lingered long enough inside to see the father and daughter side by side in the eerie room of hanging dolls. He ordered for the bodies to be thrown into the X. He couldn't explain it to the other priests, but something told him this was the right thing to do.

The villagers avoided the house afterward. Inside, floorboards still creaked gently as if something of small weight was moving steadily around. Yet no living being dwelled inside.

**end**


End file.
